


Swish

by akire_yta



Series: prompt ficlets [637]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:26:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22983994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta
Summary: thebaconsandwichofregret askedAllie exploring their NB identity!
Series: prompt ficlets [637]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/53353
Comments: 8
Kudos: 17





	Swish

Alan’s brothers are masculine men, to the point of being on the cover of magazines that extolled those virtues.

Alan reads the magazines but isn’t in them. He’s not sure he wants to.

He’s not even sure about the ‘he.’

Allie’s unsure about a lot of things, these days. About clothes and fashion, about style and substance, about bodies and this one in particular.

Everyone said it was growing pains, that it would pass. But it hasn’t; it’s gotten worse, like a coat becoming progressively tighter until they felt they might choke with it. Everything they try loosens the collar a little bit, only for it to choke tight once more.

Allie’s browsing clothes on the tablet, confident they have the kitchen to themselves for another hour yet–the others’ missions all ended late, and short of a fire alarm, they’d be sleeping in.

They stop on a dress, part kilt, part something softer. It speaks to them, the way it moves on the short looped video. Allie knows they’re not a girl, is increasingly sure they’re not a guy either. The model and the skirt seems a little of both, but hint at a third option all the same.

“You gonna buy that?”

Allie leaps like a startled cat, but Scott just chuckles sleepily, stumbling over to the fridge to claim the jug of juice. “I was, I just-” Allie babbled, unsure why they felt so guilty to be caught just _looking._

“We’ve gotta go to the city next month for mom’s big gala,” he says casually, like the Lucille Tracy Trust Ball isn’t a weight on all their calendars. “And don’t think I didn’t notice your pants’ cuff is about an inch higher than it should be.” He swigs the juice casually, like Allie wasn’t a bug caught in the headlights. “You’d look good in that,” he adds, turning to rinse his glass.

“Thanks,” Allie squeaked, finding their courage. “There’s a few other pieces in the collection…if you wanted…your opinion.”

Scott laughs. “Sure. Lemme make some toast? You eaten?” He asks, already cutting up two bagels.

Allie fetches the tablet and brings up the bookmarks as Scott passes over a plate. He can’t taste what he’s chewing as Scott flicks through the picture.

He nearly throws up as Scott buys the lot. “You deserve new clothes. And if this is you…” Scott ruffles Allie’s hair. “At least one of us will look good.”

Allie tries for thank you but bursts out crying instead. Scott gathers them into a hug and holds them tight.


End file.
